


The Night Together

by WPAdmirer



Series: Chicago Stories II [8]
Category: E.R., X-Files - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 20:10:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WPAdmirer/pseuds/WPAdmirer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walter acts weird, at least according to John Carter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night Together

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: I got tired of waiting for some good John Carter slash, and there's never enough Skinner fic to suit me.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: It's not the author's intention to infringe upon or profit from the characters created and owned by Chris Carter, 1013 Productions or the Fox Network, nor Warner Brothers and NBC. Skinner and Carter were borrowed temporarily and returned almost immediately, relatively unharmed.
> 
> SPECIAL THANKS: To KiMeriKal and Crysothemis for beta reading and friendship.

Walter was being weird. As they drove back into the city, Walter sang to himself. John had no idea what the song was, but the chorus was something about kissing the sky. It didn't make sense. John directed Walter to one of his grandfather's favorite restaurants. He wasn't entirely sure why, probably because he was obsessing about his grandfather, and it was the kind of place that Walter would love.

That thought made John shiver.

John could barely think about food, but managed to order. Walter ordered his meal and a scotch for each of them. When the drinks came he turned to John and toasted him.

"To whatever the hell happens," Walter said softly.

John could only nod. The liquor burned his mouth and throat. Walter tossed his back quickly and ordered a second. Then he settled back into his chair and looked around the room. "Nice place."

John shrugged. "My family likes it."

"Is this one of the places they used to bring you when you were a kid?"

"Yes. Barbara always liked it because Gamma would let her have a small glass of wine with dinner."

"And not you?"

"I didn't like the way wine tasted."

Walter laughed. "Perhaps you had more sophisticated tastebuds."

John shook his head and looked at the glass in his hand. "I hated scotch the first time I tasted it, but it's what the Carter men drink." He set the glass on the table and sighed.

Walter mercifully changed the subject and launched into a story about Mulder's latest exploit. Something involving a hallucinogenic fungus and caves in North Carolina. John only half listened, at one point vaguely wondering how he'd gotten Scully involved. The idea that Mulder might ingest something hallucinogenic didn't surprise him at all, but Dana Scully had seemed to have better sense.

The food came and they ate in a companionable silence. John kept hearing his grandfather's voice. 'You'll never have it now,' echoed in his head. There was a heaviness in his chest that didn't want to go away. It made his heart pound slowly and his breathing seem labored. John barely tasted the little food that he managed to choke down.

While they were waiting for the check, Walter seemed to be checking out the surrounding diners. "Do you know any of these people?"

John glanced around. "Some of them are familiar. These are people who mostly know Grandpa and Gamma."

"Really?"

John looked across the table and saw that Walter was smiling, and that his dark eyes had a light to them he didn't normally see. Oh, no, he thought, he wouldn't, but before he could fully articulate the thought, Walter did.

Walter reached across the narrow table and grasped John Carter's face in both hands. "This one's for Grandpa," he whispered. Then he kissed John. Not a sweet little closed-lipped kiss, but a full mouth-to-mouth, tongue invading kiss.

Thoughts flashed through John's mind so fast he felt like his brain would explode from an overload. His grandfather would kill him. No, his grandfather would kill them both. What was that flavor in Walter's mouth? Sweet Jesus, Walter was kissing him in the middle of one of the best restaurants in Chicago. God, no cameras, please no cameras anywhere. Walter's lost everything, including his mind. Gamma will have his head. Barbara will laugh her ass off about this. And Walter tasted like, what was it, he tasted like, something familiar, something John had tasted recently….

"Broccoli!" John said aloud as Walter broke the kiss.

"Broccoli?"

John opened his eyes and saw Walter was leaning his elbows on the table, his chin resting on top of one fist. The entire restaurant seemed very quiet.

"You taste like broccoli."

"You're blushing, John Carter."

"Jesus, Walter, I wonder why?"

Walter chuckled. The waiter appeared with the check and soon they were on their way.

John couldn't look as they walked out, but he had the feeling that every eye was on them as they headed for the door. He bit back a groan. His grandfather's phone would be ringing off the hook very soon.  
***

Walter sang all the way back to Kerry's house. Now John recognized the song. Jimi Hendrix. It didn't seem in keeping with the Walter he knew, but there were still whole parts of Walter he didn't know.

They were just inside the front door when Walter grabbed him again and smothered him with a soul-stealing kiss.

"Things went well, then?"

Kerry's voice sent an adrenalin rush of panic from John Carter's head to his feet. He pulled away from Walter.

"No, they didn't," Walter answered amiably. "In fact, things went about as badly as they could go."

"Oh?"

"John will tell you all about it in the morning, won't you?"

John nodded. Walter's arm felt heavy around his shoulders.

"Would you like a drink?"

"Thank you, Dr. Weaver, no. I think I'm going to take John Carter downstairs and see if I can't brighten his mood by trying to suck his brains out through his dick."

John Carter felt the heat rising in his face. He was actually starting to sweat.

Kerry laughed and applauded. "Then get to it, man. It looks like he could use a lot of brightening."

"Goodnight," Walter said.

John felt Walter pushing him toward the door to his basement room. He stumbled through the kitchen blindly, afraid to raise his eyes for fear he'd see Kerry smiling at him. God, how could Walter talk like that in front of her? Where was a good earthquake to open the floor and let him drop into oblivion when he really need to?

Once they were in the room with the door closed, Walter immediately began to pull at John's clothes. John pushed his hands away and backed up. "Walter, Walter, stop, stop, don't…"

"You're making a lot of the wrong kind of noise, John Carter."

"Jesus, Walter, stop!"

Walter's hands dropped away and he stepped back. John couldn't look at him. He didn't know what he was feeling, or what he wanted. All he knew was he was being pushed and embarrassed by the man he loved and he couldn't figure out why Walter was so fucking jovial when the goddamn world was crashing down around their ears.

They were both silent for a long time.

"John Carter, I know it hurts."

John finally raised his head and looked at Walter. His eyes were still bright, and his mouth was quirked up at one side, making his good humor obvious.

"Not for you."

"I didn't lose my grandfather tonight. All I lost was the burden of being hidden. It's over. I can't do anything about it, and it feels good. I don't care who knows, now."

"You're going to lose your job."

Walter made a farting sound with his mouth. John couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face in response to the sound.

"I lost my job a long time ago. I've been a puppet. Now I won't be."

"What about Krycek?"

"Fuck him."

"Walter, I'm serious. If you're no good to him, he'll…."

"Maybe. Maybe not. No matter what happens, we here together tonight and I plan to play with your body until you're half-mad with the need to come, and then I'm going to take you over the edge into the most powerful orgasm of your life. Finally, when you're a mere puddle of boneless flesh lying in my arms, I'm going to pull you close and fall asleep listening to you snore loud enough to bring the roof down on our heads. And I'm going to enjoy every minute of it."

John Carter covered his face with his hands. What was he ever going to do with Walter Skinner?

John was startled as he felt Walter's breath against his hands and his voice so close he could whisper. "John Carter, take off your clothes. Now."

John dropped his hands and moved closer to Walter until they were literally nose to nose. "You're going to have to stop giving orders, Walter."

Walter grunted in response.

"As your doctor, I warn you it's not good for your health."

Walter smiled. Then he reached out and began to loosen John's tie. John stood passively as Walter methodically stripped him. First the tie, then lowering his suspenders and taking off his shirt. Then pants and shoes. Finally t-shirt and boxers.

Walter turned him around until his back was toward the bed and pushed him with one hand. John Carter fell back onto the mattress.

"Feet," Walter demanded.

John raised his legs until his feet were at waist level to Walter. Socks were pulled off, and then his legs dropped. Standing between his wide-spread legs, Walter undressed slowly, revealing broad chest and shoulders beneath his shirt, kicking off shoes and stepping out of his trousers. When he hooked his thumbs into the band of his briefs and pulled them down, John made an appreciative little grunt of his own.

John Carter sat up. "Feet," he demanded.

Walter raised one foot at a time and let John remove his socks and toss them onto the floor.

"So you're going to suck my brains out through my dick, huh?"

Walter grinned, a big lop-sided grin that made one eye almost disappear. "Oh, yeah."

"I'd like to see you try."

John barely got the words out of his mouth before Walter was bodily positioning him on the bed, and then lowering himself to cover John's form completely. He was heavy on John's chest, narrow hips pressed firmly against John's groin. Walter's mouth greedily covered his, sucking out air and moisture and possibly even his tongue. His tongue? Hell, Walter was sucking his lungs out, too.

Walter was all heat and hardness, controlling John Carter's body, moving him where he wanted, tasting, biting, licking every inch of flesh his mouth could find. John could only moan and gasp and try to breathe. Rough, dry palms stroked his sides, and fingers pinched at nipples, the inside of his thighs, the soft flesh where his buttocks and legs joined.

John felt himself grow hard, his testicles tight against his body, heat flooding his groin, making his hands tingle and his head light.

Walter's big hand pulled at his scrotum, drawing his testicles away from his body. The hand moved and squeezed the bottom of the shaft of his penis.

"Not yet," Walter's voice hissed in his ear.

"Please…."

Walter's assault continued. John Carter's higher brain function ceased and sensation took over, touch becoming almost painful, his skin over- stimulated. Walter's thumb rubbed across the head of his penis and he nearly sobbed. When the latex sheath of the condom was rolled down the length of his erection, he welcomed the protection it gave.

The hot wetness of Walter's mouth descended over the latex and John screamed, his hips thrust upward, driving his penis deep into Walter's mouth, back into his throat. Walter placed both hands on John's hips and steadied him, slowing the pace, controlling the depth of the thrust.

John's hands found Walter's head and he held on for dear life as he blindly gave into his building orgasm. When it finally hit, it washed over him in waves, his body shuddering, every muscle flexing. The world began to go gray and then it was dark. A good, warm darkness.


End file.
